Mother
by Darkmagiciangirl-508
Summary: Yami is in the world of his memory, depressed over his lack of memory of anyone around him. It seems there is only one remedy to this: the love of a mother.


Yami stepped out onto the balcony, feeling slightly depressed. The Egyptian sky was clear, the moon full and ripe and the darkness around it was filled with stars, and naturally that strange pyramid that no one but he could see.

'Strange. Everyone here seems to know me quite well, but _I_ have no memory of them,' he thought, the faces of several people he had seen running through his mind. 'What did all of these people mean to me five thousand years ago? Were they my friends, or merely my servants?' He closed his eyes, not wishing to think that was all anyone here meant to him. He would much rather have seen them as friends, or people close to him; anything to fill this void that made him feel so alone. Without the warmth of Yugi's soul next to his, he felt empty; the last time he felt like this was when Yugi had been captured by the Orichalcos due to his own recklessness. He barely noticed as one of the woman from the throne room walked out and stood next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently. Yami looked up, and saw the concern in her eyes; they were a brilliant shade of amethyst and her black hair hung in a long sheet down her back. He remembered spotting her nearby the throne, talking with several people; he assumed they were foreign visitors, though he was unsure of who she was. She was certainly no Priest, but definitely someone of high standing in society.  
"Yes, I'm fine," he replied. He didn't remember this woman, and that fact depressed him more; for all he knew, she could have been someone of meaning to him. He didn't really wish to talk to anyone right now. It only served as a reminder to his missing memory.

"My son, you know that I know when you're lying," she said matter-of-factly, smirking. Yami's head shot up at that, and he looked at her in disbelief. This woman was his mother? He wasn't sure what to think. Yet he knew that was who she was; there was something familiar about her, as though it was hardwired into his brain. "I know something is upsetting you; is it something to do with your father?" Yami bit his lip and shook his head. He couldn't remember him, but then again he did just have Bakura drag his father's corpse into the palace He stared at his feet silently. "Is it something I've done?"

"No, never!"He said quickly, looking up at her, before looking back down again. "I'm just..." He couldn't find the word and trailed off.

"Overwhelmed?" she said. He nodded sombrely, and suddenly felt two warm arms wrap around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace. "My son, this is a big step, and I do not blame you. You are still young and have only just lost your father. But remember this; I love you; you have friends here. You're not alone." A hand ran through his hair, in a way that felt so familiar it was comforting. "If you _ever_ need anything, all you need to do is ask. Help will be given to those who ask and if you do not, you will never receive it. And I will always be there to help you." Yami felt tears in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around his mother and, to his own surprise, allowed himself to cry. She smiled and rubbed his back, gently soothing him. Yami hated that he remembered nothing about his world, his people and even his own mother, yet everything about her felt familiar; her warmth, her voice, her scent, her touch; he felt like he was a small child. They stayed like that for some time, her holding him as he cried softly, comforting him in a way only a mother could; though he eventually calmed down and rubbed his eyes, which were red from crying. His mother just smiled sadly at him and brushed a blonde bang off of his face, the thumb of the other hand wiping away any tears he missed. "You've had to grow so quickly... But you'll always be my little boy."  
"Mother," Yami hiccoughed, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't you 'mother' me," she laughed. "It's a fact; Pharaoh or not, you're _my _little boy. Trust me; I could use more embarrassing names; how about popkin or sweetums?"

"I think I prefer little boy," he said, managing a grin. His mother just laughed and hugged him again. "Thank you though, mother." She smiled.

"Well taking care of you is my job after all," she said. "And no one could ever offer me a better one; you're my whole world." Atem smiled and hugged her back again. "I love you son."

"I love you too... Mother..." In that moment he wasn't a pharaoh; he wasn't a world-saving hero. He was just a boy who needed his mother. And she was always there to hold him, to fill the void in his heart that had been empty for five thousand years.

The End.

Wow, random one shot. Plot bunny is becoming a frequent visitor in my house; I always liked exploring the idea of Atem's mother. I think she should have appeared, even in a flashback or something. I always imagine her as a really kind and caring sort of mother, who can prod fun at her child a little. I really do see Atem/Yami being one of those guys who is the idea of perfect calm, awesome, sexy hero to everyone, but it's his parents who see past that and just see a little boy who's had to grow up ahead of his time.

Surprisingly enough, when I started writing this, the song The Best Day by Taylor Swift started playing on my playlist, which is Taylor singing about her mum. Then when I was getting towards the end Never Grow up started playing. I swear, my playlist can read my mind!

I don't think I need to explain why he's called Yami rather than Atem in this.


End file.
